


Checkpoint: Cleared

by aurics



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confessions, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Video & Computer Games, a soft dumb, daniel is a dumb here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 16:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14140032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurics/pseuds/aurics
Summary: Jihoon never thought his part-time coworker would play a game he used to model for - and a dating sims one at that. It's time for Jihoon to attempt some damage control.





	Checkpoint: Cleared

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Nielwink fic fest [Starry Nights!](https://twitter.com/nwstarrynights) thank you jess for organising this fun fest!
> 
> It's my first time writing nielwink, so do excuse me if I've sometimes missed the mark on their characterisation at some points ;; I had a lot of fun writing for this prompt (even though I probably took one too many liberties with it) so I hope you'll enjoy it too!
> 
> And as always, thank you to the bestest [himarisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/himarisu) for being the most supportive friend a girl could ask for ;; if it weren't for you I would never even think of attempting to write nielwink, ilu thank u so much bubs ♥ ♥

“Oh, cool! I’ve been meaning to try this game out for a while.”

Jihoon looks up from where he’s attempting to sort out the game shop's inventory after the flurry of deliveries they received over the weekend. Though work is relatively slow-paced, the shop is still popular amongst youth that happen to wander around the small street of Hongdae it's situated along, and the constant shipment keeps Jihoon busy during his Monday shifts. Granted, he’s only been to two of those so far—it hasn’t been long since he thought he needed a change of pace from his part-time modelling gigs. He’s been hoping for something less volatile now that he’s entering his third year of uni, something he can settle in for the next foreseeable future to avoid the constant headaches that come with freelancing.

At the opposite end of the aisle of shelves Jihoon is currently occupying, he sees Daniel hunched over with a game in his hand and a wide grin on his face. He’s been a part-timer at the store three months longer than Jihoon’s two-week tenure, yet he’s always greeting Jihoon enthusiastically as he comes in every morning or afternoon and doesn’t complain the slightest about his constant workload before sorting out through boxes of video games left untended. Daniel makes the job slightly more bearable by largely staying out of Jihoon’s way as he settles into his tasks, only intervening every now and then to ask if Jihoon is doing alright or to crack a joke—which Jihoon appreciates on a Friday afternoon, but not exactly on a Monday morning. Nevertheless, he does appreciate having someone else on the shift with him—things are a lot less boring that way, and Daniel isn’t the worst person you can get stuck with on a near daily basis.

“Does that mean you’ve finished all your other games?”

“Oh, no _way_ , I haven’t. But I felt like I need a change of scenery.”

Jihoon thinks of the library of shooter games he’d seen in Daniel’s PSP, back when they were making small talk about their favourite and the games they wish they’d never played. “I agree. You should try a different genre for once.”

“Exactly! I heard this game got good reviews.” He half-skips over to Jihoon’s spot and flips the plastic case of the game CD around. “ _Producer 101._ Funny name for a dating sim, huh?”

Jihoon marks off one more item on the inventory list before stopping short, only registering what Daniel has said. He slowly turns his head in the direction of his coworker, still obliviously reading the blurb at the back of the CD case.

“Did you just say _Producer 101_?”

“Yeah. Hey!” Daniel grins. “Have you heard of it before?”

 _Heard of it?_ Jihoon resists the urge to scream. He’s far too familiar with it, knows the nooks and crannies of the game so well he could probably play the thing in his sleep. He still remembers all the late nights at the studio, the surveys he had to fill in, interviews he had to sit through, the hours spent in the dressing room waiting for principal photography to start—

“—sounds cool too.”

“What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“I just said the characters here sound cool. Look,” Daniel shifts closer. “They’re called... Minhyun, Sungwoo, Jinyoung and Kihoon. They’re all so _cute_.”

Jihoon takes a good look at each of the characters before letting his eyes slowly travel to Kihoon at the very end of the line, smiling an all-too familiar smile, eyes curved up slightly at the edges.

“I-Isn’t that game for girls?” Jihoon tries, and when Daniel raises an eyebrow as if in challenge, Jihoon puts his hands up in defence. “I mean, the protagonist _is_ a girl.”

“I wouldn’t mind playing as a girl, but that aside, as long as the game keeps the actions pretty neutral, I’d hardly notice it, I think. Anyway, I swing that way so,” Daniel grins. “More eyecandy for me! Plus, with the staff discount, this game’s almost free."

Jihoon rolls his eyes despite being impressed at how casually his coworker had come out to him. This is how camaraderie is built, probably—nonsense banter leading to unexpectedly personal confessions. “But why would you want to play it? It looks pretty… lame.”

Daniel looks slightly miffed by the accusation, but nevertheless waves the plastic case enthusiastically near his face. “Don’t judge a game by its cover! Dating sims can be very deep games, you know. You have to get to know the characters and tailor your choices to their tastes, figure out what they’re feeling. It’s very complex!”

“Every game has complexity to it.”

“But dating sims teach you things about human interactions you sometimes wouldn’t come across in real life. You catch my drift?"

 _Because they’re too absurd to be real?_ Jihoon wants to supply but bites his tongue as he doesn’t want to come across as a snarky brat—he has, after all, enjoyed a selection of possibly questionable games himself. Daniel continues to ramble on about the rave reviews the game’s been getting on internet forums before the front door is pushed open with a ring of the overhead bell and a teenage boy of about fifteen or so walks in, earning his attention.

Jihoon tunes their conversation out to the symphony of mild panic that’s starting to rise within him as he eyes the game Daniel left on the checkout counter. He remembers his time working behind the scenes as a model for Kihoon’s character with the game developers fondly— his co-models were genuinely great people he is endlessly thankful to have met; they had a swell time making fun of the cheesier parts of the script during voice recording; and Jihoon learned a lot about the effort that goes into making a single game. But then again, it’s all in the past and the developers are so small that he never anticipated anyone in his immediate circle of friends or acquaintances would even hear of it, let alone _play_ it. Having the reassurance that his involvement would be unknown to the public was one of the main reasons he chose to accept the contract, and Jihoon had no qualms about his acquaintances finding out since none of them are into games, anyway.

So for Daniel to show avid interest in the game, Jihoon’s bearings are thrown completely out of whack. He feels completely out of his depth being faced with a quandary he’d never come across before: how to dissuade a coworker Jihoon has known for only two weeks from playing a game he seems so enthused about. Is it worth crushing a newfound friend’s gaming spirit? That doesn’t sound much like camaraderie. He’s only starting to get genuinely comfortable around Daniel, who’s never heard of _anything_ Jihoon had done before and thus never treated him as some poster boy, and he’s only starting to think they might be pretty great friends, too. Daniel sounds like he’d be pretty open-minded… no—even so, it’s not worth the risk. Should Jihoon throw the game away? Break it? _Burn it?_

Daniel’s phone buzzes with urgency, signaling an incoming call and he breaks away from his conversation with the customer to pick it up. After a few short exchanges, he turns to Jihoon and says, with an apologetic face, “Shit, sorry, roommate called. Said it was an emergency—something about the tap leaking, or something. I swear sometimes I live with an overgrown baby.”

“Oh,” Jihoon blinks, belatedly remembering his prepared argument. “About the game—“

“Ah, right! I’ll let you know how my first run goes!” Daniel slings his backpack across his shoulder quickly, throws a quick wave behind him and steps out before Jihoon can even get a word in edgewise. “See you tomorrow!”

Well, Jihoon is kind of screwed.

 

  
*  


 

“Thank you for your purchase, and have a great day!”

Jihoon bows and smiles his best smile, sending the girl who’d purchased a Final Fantasy XV out with a small wave and feeling good about himself once more. He’s getting more natural at this—he’s making less mistakes with the change amounts and, after a little bit of research and a smidge of hard work, is finally able to curate recommendations confidently to customers now.

 _Speaking of new games,_ Jihoon muses as he swivels to stare at Daniel nearly snoozing by the corner of the store, broom propped up against the wall beside him. It pains Jihoon to disturb his coworkers’ precious nap time, but curiosity is itching at him and he needs to get rid of the sensation _quickly_.

Jihoon nudges Daniel, steadying him when the boy jolts awake with a timid smile. “Tired?”

He does, after all, still want to make a friend out of his coworker. Thankfully Daniel doesn’t seem to be pertrubed, and only stretches like an overgrown cat. “I didn’t have time to go for a coffee run this morning,” he groans, rubbing an eye. “Got caught up trying to set up that new game last night.”

Feigning mild interest, Jihoon asks, “Oh. How is it so far?”

Daniel yawns and shakes himself to full consciousness as he walks over to the chair behind the cash register where he’d dumped his backpack earlier. “Pretty good. The art is really well-done, surprisingly. The whole plot seems kind of cheesy, but it’s not the plot that makes or breaks the game, it’s the choices the player can make, right?”

Jihoon nods along to all this, silently agreeing to the point made about the art. “Why are you finding it so cheesy?”

“Do you know what the story’s about?”

He shrugs vaguely. Of course Jihoon knows it like the back of his hand, but he’s not stupid enough to say that. “I’ve read bits and pieces about it online.”

“I can give you a rundown of it! The protagonist has just enrolled in one of the country’s top arts academies after graduating high school, hoping to pursue a career in the entertainment industry, and she—or he—becomes acquainted with these four students who are supposed to be some of the academy’s best students who have a real shot at becoming famous. Except they’re all quite clueless as to what kind of field they should specialise in in the future, and it’s up to the protagonist to help them unlock their passion!” Daniel explains with an almost breathless enthusiasm. “Oh, and fall in love in the process, of course."

“Wow, you’re right, that sounds cheesy as hell.”

“But it’s quite tastefully made in my opinion. Actually, do you want to see it? You don’t have to watch me play if you don’t want to, though.“

“It’s okay, I’ll watch too,” Jihoon says. Daniel seems surprised, but nonetheless pulls out his PSP with a grin. They both settle on the chairs behind the register.

“I’ve only gotten past the intro story cause I had to catch up with assignments late last night,” Daniel mutters sheepishly. “But after the first couple of days at school and meeting everyone, the protagonist has the choice to spend their break times with any of the boys.”

“Huh,” mutters Jihoon, doing his best to pretend like it’s all new to him. “I’m assuming this is where the paths split?”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be on a specific characters’ path from this point on, but I have my mind set on one anyway.” Daniel’s eyes seem to glitter as he says this, and apprehension creeps up Jihoon’s chest. He smiles tightly.

“Really? Who do you think you’ll go for?”

“I want to try Kihoon’s route.”

Jihoon’s heart sinks as he suppresses the urge to groan. _Why,_ he thinks, _why must fate be out to get me like this?_

“I heard Kihoon is the hardest character to get the good ending for, though.”

“Seriously? That’s great!” Daniel bounces a little in his chair. “I love a good challenge.”

“Why choose Kihoon? I think Minhyun is hotter.” Jihoon points at the boy whose name tag reads _Kwan Minhyun._ "I mean, look at those eyes.”

“So that’s what you go for, huh? Nah, Kihoon looks more like my type.”

Jihoon freezes. “Your… type? Why?” _Could it be because he looks familiar?_

Daniel frowns. “I just think he’s super cute.”

“Oh.” Jihoon blinks. _What?_

"I’ve only seen like, three expressions on him so far but they’re all adorable. Plus, he seems to be enthusiastic in everything he does. Sounds like a sure success to me."

Jihoon has to keep his jaw from falling open. _Is this guy serious?_ Jihoon leans forward to stare at the character on the screen again, mapping out the familiar flick of his eyes and the tilt of his smile, the curve of his nose, his hair. Even his voice has only been turned up a notch higher in pitch for Kihoon, and anyone with a sharp ear would be able to pinpoint the similarity in no time.

Jihoon looks up at Daniel who suspects nothing. Just how dense _is_ this guy? He laments over this for a second before realising that this, in fact, is something he can turn into a game of his own. A plan starts to form in his head and Jihoon can’t help the giddy smirk finding its way onto his face.

Innocent meddling has never really harmed anyone, right?

  
  


*

 

 

On Thursday afternoon, Jihoon walks in to see Daniel leaning against the cash register counter, eyes riveted onto the screen of his PSP. Business seems slow by the looks of it, so Jihoon might as well resign himself to sorting out the indie games shelves at the back of the store. Really, he should be kicking his coworker’s ass to get him on the job too, but Jihoon is a man on a mission—and at the moment, that mission is _not_ to enforce productivity on Daniel.

“Still playing _Producer 101_?”

Daniel looks up with a sheepish smile. “I just continued a while ago, actually. Didn’t make much progress since yesterday.”

“Let me join you then,” Jihoon says breezily, much to the latter's alarm.

“I thought you said this game was lame?”

“It is.” Jihoon racks his brain for an excuse. “Doesn’t mean I can’t kill a few hours just watching you play. No one came in yet, right?”

“Nope, middle of the week. It’s always the least busy day.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s see where this game is taking us.”

It takes all of Jihoon’s willpower to ignore how grating his voice sounds on the game, but he grits his teeth and manages to keep a straight face through all the dialogues.

 

**_Kihoon_ **

_Practice is over! Let’s go eat, FLAC! Where should we go?_

**_FLAC:_ **

_ > McB Fast food chain _

_ > Fancy Italian Restaurant _

_ > Vegan snack bar _

_ > Back to the practice room _

 

Jihoon bursts out laughing, doubled up with a hand to his stomach. “Oh my _god,_ what kind of name is ‘FLAC’?”

“Hey! It’s been my handle since I was thirteen for all my games, okay. It has history.” Daniel protests, but he laughs along with Jihoon. “Anyway, it has to be fast food—"

“Huh? I don’t think so.” Daniel’s finger hovers over the buttons at Jihoon’s interjection, but he shakes innocently in reply. “Don’t stop because of me, I mean, it’s _your_ game.”

“No, no, tell me,” says Daniel, shifting in his spot to face Jihoon. “You think I'm wrong?”

“I mean, so far Kihoon’s been spending a lot of time in the music room and he took you there during break time, so maybe he’s a bit of a—a workaholic?”

Daniel sends a dubious look at the PSP. “Really? But his personality seems really easy-going. Like, he’s the type to be burdened by a fancy dinner right from the get-go, so he’d much prefer something casual for a first meal together?”

 _Damn, this guy is good._ “How long have you been playing this game for?”

“Uh, maybe two hours in total? I told you, I didn’t get that far…”

For Daniel to be as perceptive as he is so early on in the game is something that amazes Jihoon more than spooks him, and though he considers himself to be good with people, Daniel might just be a worthy opponent in this particular field.

“Listen, don’t let my opinion affect your play.”

Daniel gnaws on his bottom lip. “What you said makes sense though…” After a thoughtful second, Daniel presses the buttons on his PSP and selects the bottom choice. “Yeah, maybe he wanted to spend time in other ways.”

“That’s great,” Jihoon grins as Kihoon on the screen gives a less-than-enthusiastic ‘ _Alright, if that’s what you want to do’_ as a reply. Daniel may be a worthy opponent in this game, but he’s still a fallible one, after all.

_Mission: Sabotage Daniel’s gameplay._

  
  
  
*

 

 

They don’t share a shift the next couple of days since the game shop splits each part-timer into shorter individual shifts instead of longer shared ones every weekend. This doesn’t keep Daniel from asking Jihoon for advice, however, and though the former insists it’s less of advice and more of ‘added insight’ (whatever difference _that’s_ supposed to make) Jihoon is somehow positive that Daniel takes onboard much of what he says. Often, they discuss the choices at length, with Jihoon double checking whatever his memory fails him on with cheat sheets he finds online—which he knows for _sure_ Daniel wouldn’t access since the boy had acted like Jihoon admitted to the murder of kittens when he so much as suggested making use of cheat sheets to obtain his desired endings.

 

_Daniel: omg he’s asking me what kind of music i like but my favourite genre isn’t even in the list_

 

Jihoon grins, finding it awfully funny how often Daniel confuses the protagonist with himself. Jihoon's already picturing the bewildered look that’s sure to be on Daniel’s face.

 

_Me: Hahaha lol, what is it, trap music?_

_Me: Focus on the task of impressing kihoon man_

_Daniel: i know, i know, just wanted to add a bit of realism to this game. do you think he’s more of a pop or jazz guy?_

_Daniel: and hey… how’d you know..._

_Me: You left your spotify out in the open last time. Anyway none. He looks like he’d like operas, go to the theatres and watch them_

_Daniel: so like, ballads? that’s the closest choice i have here_

_Me: Yup_

_Daniel: really… he dances too though… he’s a pretty decent popper…_

_Me: Hey, like I said I’m just giving you my two cents here_

_Me: He’s just a fictional character he won’t get offended if u choose the wrong answer_

_Daniel: i’m trying to sweep him off his feet ofc i don’t want to give the wrong answer_

_Me: …………._

_Daniel: i’m jk!!! ^__^ have you eaten?_

 

Their exchanges always trail off like this, with Daniel gravitating away from the topic of games and continuing the conversation even when he no longer has any real need for it, and it’s a little endearing to see him take such interest in Jihoon’s mundane, daily business. Jihoon gets roped into discussions about everything from volunteering at an animal shelter to university anecdotes, and it’s nice to know his company isn’t only wanted for the sake of game advancement.

But he has to admit it still forms a bulk of their interactions. His input is only asked of a couple of times, but in the intervening messages Jihoon makes sure to craft Kihoon’s character in Daniel’s mind as a fame-thirsty workaholic whose satisfaction stems solely from victory over others, and his interest in others is limited to how useful they are in his plans (except the protagonist, whom he regards as yet another game to solve)—unlike the real Kihoon according to the game, so unlike _Jihoon himself_ that Daniel is sure to be led further astray. Jihoon prepares himself for Daniel’s lamentations that Sunday night and thinks of ways to dissuade the boy from pursuing the game any further.

What Jihoon isn’t prepared for, however, is Daniel walking through the door on Monday morning without his usual enthusiastic greeting, but with a downcast and brooding air in tow. His face is scrunched up as if deep in thought. When he sets his backpack down near the checkout counter he only gives Jihoon distracted nod, and Jihoon is almost too spooked to break the silence.

 _You are a man on a mission, Park Jihoon_. “What’s wrong? You seem kinda down.”

Daniel lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping in his seat. He stays silent for a while, and just as Jihoon starts to grow antsy he lolls his head in Jihoon’s direction and says, with a frown, “I got the bad ending.”

Jihoon has to hold in the whoop he wants so badly to let out. “What was the bad ending ike?”

“Kihoon overworked himself so much he messed up his audition,” Daniel says, voice dejected. “Then he told the protagonist it wasn’t going to work out between them… the relationship would just get in the way. Then they… we… broke up."

Jihoon’s forgotten how dramatic and clichéd the game was, but he thanks the game’s lack of creativity for an unsatisfying ending that will surely make his efforts of dissuasion all the more effortless. “Oh well, this game must be super shit, then—I was so sure we had it. These game developers don’t know what they’re talking about.”

He expects Daniel to join him in his bitching but Daniel’s frown stays, only deepening as he picks at the loose thread on his PSP cover.

“I don’t think so.”

“Hm?”

Daniel sighs again. “Maybe I‘m actually just shit at understanding people.”

It takes all of Jihoon’s willpower not to wheeze out an incredulous laugh. _Is this guy serious? Dating sims aren’t meant to be that deep._

“Don’t be silly, man,” Jihoon says as he pulls up a chair. He hopes no one will be coming by the store anytime soon. “It’s just a stupid game.”

“Game imitates life.”

“Come on, it’s not like you had to get to know _actual_ people. The game’s designed for you to pick out a pattern that the game makers assigned to the characters, and you just make choices based on those patterns.”

“Minus the game maker part, that sounds a lot like human interaction, right?” At this, Jihoon falls silent, unable to see the fault in Daniel’s statement. “You meet someone, you get to know the patterns in their behaviour, and you make choices based on those.”

“Yeah, but a dating sim isn’t a realistic representation, the choices are too obvious—“

Jihoon regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Daniel snorts and sinks further into his chair with his arms crossed. “Excellent. Even with the answers staring at me right in the face, I still get them wrong.”

If it was any other person, Jihoon would slap them on the back and try to distract them from what he thinks is a silly concern. But this is Daniel, the boy whose pursues everything with an alarming amount of tenacity and sincerity, who’s not afraid of playing games meant for a completely different target audience, and who appreciates game as an art that reflects real interactions than just a way to kill time.

And for some reason it wins Jihoon over.

“Hey, don’t forget I played a part in this tragic demise too.”

At least it manages to pull a chuckle out of Daniel. He swivels his chair and shakes his head. “Nah, you didn’t. All those choices were mine, anyway.”

“You kept saying you’ll only take my advice if it made sense, but I know you followed every single one.” Putting a finger up to stop Daniel’s protests, Jihoon does his best to level Daniel a disapproving look.

“Don’t try to deny it, I’m not dense. Let me give you one last piece of advice though.”

Daniel seems to give in then, leaning back with a small smile. “Sure, Mr. Park. What is it?”

“This time when we play the game, just use your real name. I don’t want to have to read the characters calling the protagonist ‘FLAC’ every time they ask you for input.”

“Play again…?”

Jihoon smiles at him, unable to shake the image of Daniel’s wide grin off his mind. “Sure.”

He barely manages to dodge Daniel’s exaggerated punch to the shoulder.

_Mission: Obtain Good Ending for Daniel._

  
  
  
*

 

 

They start the game over that very afternoon, though they didn’t get very far before the flurry of elementary school students from a nearby school floods the store, keeping Daniel and Jihoon on their toes while they make sure no game falls victim to their prying hands or get tucked away under their shirts, never to be seen again. This time, Jihoon lets Daniel choose his own path and only pipes up to nudge him in the right direction when he’s about to make a _grave_ mistake. (‘ _Think about it. Do you really think Kihoon, the boy who could hardly keep still in class, would rather go to a tennis match than try out paragliding? I didn’t think so.’_ ) Fulfilling the role of a spectator leaves Jihoon ample time to do nothing but observe—and he likes watching Daniel’s tongue peek out in concentration, the way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth like an overgrown rabbit, and Jihoon especially enjoys cataloguing every reaction Daniel has to each development in Kihoon’s plot.

But it’s what he observes within _himself_ that’s weighing down on Jihoon’s mind.

Before restarting the game, they had come to an agreement to change the protagonist’s name to _Daniel_. It had taken some wheedling on Jihoon’s part, and he’d been relieved when he succeeded, thinking it would solve the problem of FLAC being a complete eyesore. Which it does—but Jihoon wishes he had the foresight to realise it would present an entirely new problem.

Now, Jihoon can’t say he hasn’t entertained this possibility. Ever since Daniel said game imitates life and pointed out the resemblance between game interactions and human ones, Jihoon has become increasingly aware of the lack of discrepancy between game and real life. When the protagonist is faced with a recurring decision of where to go out for lunch, Daniel would suddenly claim being hungry and offer to go on a food run for the both of them—which he thoroughly appreciates, until Daniel drags Jihoon out along to them, too.

That’s how he often finds himself sitting beside Daniel at a fast food chain’s counter table, or across from him at one of their window seating areas, discussing the winning traits and unfortunate disappointments in _Producer 101_ as they wolf down their food, conversations sometimes veering off to exchanging miscellaneous stories about school and past part-time jobs (which Jihoon carefully avoids, just in case). With the sincerity Daniel puts into his every chosen action and Jihoon’s identical (internal) response with those of Kihoon, there’s no way he can overlook the parallels between game and real life. Or perhaps he’s just blurring the boundaries between them himself? No. It can’t be Jihoon’s fault. If anyone’s to blame for the overstepping of boundaries, it would be—

“Tell him he looks best when he’s cute or when he’s sexy?”

With his pencil poised in mid-air above the inventory list, Jihoon is dumbfounded for a second, mortified that Daniel would ask him such a question out of the blue. Then he notices the bright red PSP in his hands and silently laughs to himself. Of course Daniel’s just asking for the sake of the game— _not everything has to be about you,_ he thinks to himself _._

Except it doesn’t really work because Jihoon is being completely honest when he replies, with no small amount of shame: “Sexy.”

Daniel whoops in delight when Kihoon displays a positive response. “We’re going—I mean, Kihoon and the protagonist are going to go on a stargazing date the next day, even though Kihoon admits one of his favourite things to do is to stay at home and just laze around. He’s making _sacrifices_ for the protagonist! Isn’t this great?”

Feeling brave, Jihoon pretends to be surprised by this development and says, in the most wistful tone he can muster: “Seriously? I love stargazing.”

“Hey—me too!” Daniel claps his hands together, eyes sparkling a little. “We should go one day!”

Taken aback, Jihoon only responds with a small nod that seems to satisfy Daniel. Sometimes Jihoon can’t tell if Daniel realises the things he says can be misconstrued far too easily, especially in certain contexts and in certain timings—but seeing how effortlessly Daniel settles back into his game on the screen, Jihoon deems it unlikely.

“Kihoon is seriously my type,” mutters Daniel. “Too bad he only exists in a game."

He grips the pencil tighter, eyes no longer reading the inventory list in front of him. “Yeah, too bad.”

Jihoon can’t help but think how it can be so much more than that.

  
  
  
*

 

 

“I know it’s all games but… do you sometimes find yourself answering Kihoon honestly?”

In Jihoon's haze of exhaustion, it’s hard to tell whether Daniel is taking his own question seriously or not, but he feels Daniel’s stare growing heavy on him, illuminated by the fluorescent light of the convenience store sign above them. The other pair of part-timers had asked for a shift switch for today and Daniel, of course, had been too nice to say no. As a repayment, he promised to treat Jihoon to any snack he wants and unlimited cans of beer—and of course, Jihoon has taken full advantage of this. Now they’re sitting on the steps right outside the store, a fat plastic bag of snacks and beer between them and Jihoon thinks it feels nice, having every single bit of Daniel’s attention, even if he ultimately is talking about someone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to think I sound ridiculous. I probably do,” he laughs. “But sometimes I feel like Kihoon is so… so real and so _familiar_ that I sometimes stop giving answers for the sake of the game. I find myself actually _wanting_ to follow him to dance classes, buy him a snack when we go to the convenience store, go to the beach to build sandcastles that we’d end up kicking to the ground anyway…”

Daniel stops, closes his eyes and visibly gulps. The rosiness is high on his cheeks and Jihoon thinks it’s one of the prettiest colours he’s seen, Daniel’s blush. Of course, it might also be the midnight canned beer doing the talking.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That sounds so, so messed up. I need to finish this game before I get any more delusional.”

“Game imitates life.”

Daniel rolls his eyes and shoves his shoulder gently (Jihoon realises that everything Daniel does is gentle, even when he’s slightly tipsy). “Okay, okay, no need to humiliate me any further.”

“No, no, I wasn’t saying it to be sarcastic. I mean it.” Jihoon licks his lips, looks into Daniel’s eyes. “The game doesn’t have to end there.”

Daniel looks at him, slightly confused but with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “What? You mean continue _dating_?” Daniel stops, then lets out a small chuckle. “Find my own Kihoon?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon chuckles despite his heart beating a mile a minute. “Find your own Kihoon.”

When Daniel’s gaze finally meets his, Jihoon feels a little breathless. For a second, he considers telling Daniel everything—how he intentionally sabotaged Daniel's play to deter him from playing the game; his involvement as a model for the character the older boy is pursuing with what seems to be his entire heart’s capacity; his fear of freaking Daniel out with an unwanted extra realism to his gaming experience.

But Jihoon doesn’t want to spook Daniel so late in the night, doesn’t want to break the tranquil atmosphere they’ve built up for themselves here under the shade of the convenience store neon lights; so he simply stares back, beer can growing warm in the palm of his hand and the back of his neck growing hot with the rush of blood creeping up his system.

Daniel breaks eye contact first as he turns to face the empty road with a toothy grin, and Jihoon tries to pick his heart back up from where it’s dropped with the disappointment of unresolved tension. Daniel shakes his head with a loud laugh before clapping Jihoon on the back.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Jihoon takes another swig, wishing he could drown the hope rising in his chest.

  
  
  
  
*

 

 

_(Mission: Obtain Good Ending with Daniel.)_

  
  
  
*

 

 

If Daniel remembers anything from their exchange late last night, he doesn’t show it in the least. Jihoon, on the other hand, can’t stop being antsy all the way through setting up for opening that morning.

“Hey, dude, are you okay?” asks Daniel with genuine concern when Jihoon drops yet another half dozen _gachapon_ capsules while trying to refill the machines.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He waves Daniel away when he tries to approach, clearly intending to help. “I’m serious, I’ve got it. You sort out the top shelf instead in the New Arrivals corner.”

“Right, ‘cause you’d never be able to reach it.”

“At least I can use stairs. There’s no easy fix for not knowing the order of the alphabets. Remember, H comes _after_ G.”

“It was _one time_!” Daniel whines. With Jihoon’s cackle in the background, Daniel makes to sort out the mess they’ve been neglecting for days, but seems to think better of it as he pauses mid-way and looks at his watch. “We open in fifteen, but I don’t think we’ll have traffic until lunchtime. Want to take a break first?”

And despite knowing full well they don’t deserve one yet, Jihoon nods anyway.

It’s Jihoon’s turn to be the benevolent one today, so he takes out a couple of peach juice bottles and throws one in Daniel’s direction, which he catches effortlessly.

“Hey, thanks! Hope you woke up okay this morning?” Jihoon nods, and looks away when Daniel grins wider. He wishes he was drunk enough to not remember how, for a second, he and Daniel seemed to be on the same page.

“Yeah, I woke up okay. You?”

“Never better. And guess what, I think I’m nearly there!”

“Nearly where?” Jihoon frowns and takes a gulp of his drink.

“The good ending! I’m getting so close to it!”

Surprised out of his wits, Jihoon nearly chokes on the beverage. His head feels light-headed. “Seriously? How do you know?"

“I don’t know, but Kihoon’s starting to take more initiative… talking to the protagonist more, making jokes when we’re alone, buying food to share even when the protagonist didn’t ask him to…”

The combination of Daniel’s look and awfully specific description is enough to make Jihoon feel self-conscious, knowing full well that his recent actions tick all the boxes Daniel’s just listed off. He scoffs.

“Don’t get so full of yourself, it might just be him opening up to you a little bit more.”

“Oh, and he also told us our days training together are almost over.”

Jihoon shoves his shoulder and revels in the cackle Daniel lets out as a result.

“So, want to see me win this game? I don’t have much left of it.”

“Technically there’s no _winning_ in dating sims,” Jihoon rolls his eyes, but grins around the rim of his bottle nonetheless. “But I _am_ curious about what they’ll end up doing after graduating from their arts academy.”

“Then get yourself comfortable,” Daniel scoots over and pats the empty space beside him, head cocked in the direction of the spare chair near the entrance of the shop. Jihoon doesn’t need to be told twice.

Daniel continues where he’s left off—Kihoon is about to head into the last of his auditions, this time for supporting roles in a big-production drama.

 

 **_Kihoon:_ ** _I’ll be going_!

**_Daniel:_ **

_ > Break a leg. _

_ > Just call me when it’s over. _

_ > I’ll be here for you once you’re finished. _

_ > I don’t think you should go through with it. _

 

“I’m going for the third one.”

“Why?” Jihoon can’t help but ask; Daniel’s confidence has taken him aback.

“So far Kihoon’s always wanted reassurance that the protagonist will be there for him no matter what, in his own weird way. ‘Break a leg’ just sounds… cold.” He gives Jihoon a sidelong glance. “So the third one it is.”

Fascinated, Jihoon nods his approval and watches with bated breath as Daniel presses the buttons swiftly. Kihoon replies with a smile that can sweep anyone off their feet, and an enthusiastic _‘Thank you_ ’ that lends the proud look on Daniel’s own face.

He nudges Jihoon. “You can say you’re impressed you know.”

“Don’t get so full of yourself,” he teases back. The screen dims to black for a few seconds with a caption that says ‘ _Two weeks later..._ ‘. Then Kihoon reappears, this time outside the building of his audition and crowded by a throng of cameras. At first, he seems to be trying to wave them off but he soon catches the protagonist’s eyes.

 

 **_Kihoon:_ ** _Daniel!_

 **_Reporters:_ ** _Park Kihoon! Can you tell us why you’ve decided to turn down the casting offer?_

 

“What? Why would he turn it down? It was his _dream_! I thought this was the good ending!”

“Be quiet!” Jihoon shushes him. “Just watch.”

What unfolds before them is a beautiful scene—at first, the backdrop is filled with camera flashes and the background noise of paparazzi shouting, eager to interview the new star who has turned down every breakthrough opportunity for a smaller, more idyllic one. Then it changes to a setting both Daniel and Jihoon know so well—it’s the hill Kihoon had taken the protagonist to the first time they went stargazing.

There, Kihoon explains his predicament: how he’d given up the star-studded path, realising he’s had enough of its glittering world and their empty promises. Instead, he'd taken up a position as a dance trainer at a small company, hoping he'll have more autonomy over his time this way.

 

 **_Kihoon:_ ** _It’s time I take better care of myself. Do what makes me truly happy. Put the people who make me happy first…_

 

“Oh, this is my favourite line!” Jihoon spent a solid hour recording this segment alone, trying to get the emotions right. It’s like muscle memory when he turns his voice up a slight notch lower, lets the emotions chew at the edges when he echoes Kihoon out loud:

“‘ _Because only keeping you saved in my heart isn’t a good enough compromise’_.”

A beat of silence wedges itself between them before Daniel straightens up abruptly and spins in Jihoon’s direction. “Wait, wait—hold on a second. How did you—you just recited the thing off by heart—how—” He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “You’ve played this game before, haven’t you? But you pretended you haven’t?”

“ _Well_ … I haven’t exactly _played_ it…”

“Don’t tell me you actually _made_ the game?” Daniel’s voice is close to a shriek, and if Jihoon wasn’t so nervous he’d be making fun of the older boy for it.

It would be easy for Jihoon to wave it off, pretend he watched the walkthrough the night before or read ahead in the cheat sheets. Maybe it’s the niggling, antsy feeling he’s had since last night, or maybe the sense of camaraderie that he feels like he’s been building between them that pushes Jihoon over the edge, but all of a sudden he wants Daniel to _know._

(Maybe that’s how you know you care a lot about someone; when you no longer want to hide things from them.)

“Promise you won’t freak out?”

Daniel’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, so you _did_ make the game—“

“What? _No_! Would I still be in uni if I could make a whole ass game? Just—“ Jihoon shuts his eyes for a second, trying to regain his bearings. “This is really embarrassing to admit but… Kihoon is… based on me, okay?”

“Huh?”

Jihoon drags a hand down his face in mild agony as he tries to figure out where he should start explaining. “When the game was being developed, the makers wanted to make it as realistic as possible so they held a small audition to find people who they could base their main characters on—”

“ _What_ —” Jihoon lifts a hand up to stop Daniel.

“If… if you don’t mind. Please let me finish so I can get this over with.” He takes a deep breath. “They didn’t have a very big turnout because they were pretty underground, but I was one of the lucky few they decided to pick out.” He picks at the edges of his shirt, desperately trying to find a loose thread to fidget with. In his periphery, Daniel’s mouth is hanging open and he’s afraid of the thoughts running in the boy’s head. “They paid us really well and the whole thing didn’t really involve much—we had to do several photoshoots for the character designs, visit the video often to record voice-overs, have some kind of ’survey’ a few days a week over a month or so just so they get a first-hand view of our habits.”

For a long second, Jihoon is terrified of looking up and seeing the full extent of the revelation on Daniel’s face. He hears a soft _no way_ and thinks this is it, Jihoon’s going to have to resign, find a new part time job, and most probably lose a very good friend. But before he can go any further with his self deprecation he’s pulled out of his thoughts by a pair of hands digging into his shoulders. He looks up in surprise to see Daniel’s eyes looking at him with emotions he can’t quite name just yet.

“Dude,” he says breathlessly. “That… that is just—”

“Weird? I know.”

“What? No! I was going to say _so cool_ !” At Jihoon’s dumbstruck face, he frowns. “Having a character based on you? Oh my _god_ that’s like having your own franchise, isn’t it? Come on, how could I think that was lame? I’m barely keeping my chill right now.”  Daniel holds up a finger. “You’re probably part of the lucky 0.5% who had the chance to be part of a game production. You’re living a million’s people’s dreams!”

Being on the receiving end of Daniel’s enthusiasm, when he expected a reaction so much worse, is sending Jihoon’s head spinning. “You don’t think it’s weird? Or creepy?”

“Of course not! Definitely a much cooler alternative to a part-time job than this one, huh.”Jihoon silently disagrees—there’s no Daniel in any of his other gigs, after all. Daniel lets out a wistful sigh. “It must’ve been so fun.”

"Yeah, I had fun doing it. The only pain in the ass were probably the interviews—they were kind of long, and the staff asked us questions about our hobbies and schedules after school and asked that we answer in massive detail.” Jihoon pauses. “And before you ask me, yes the three other boys are real—and yes, real-life Minhyun is also very hot.”

Daniel seems to ignore this last tidbit of information and narrows his eyes. “You know, I had my suspicions. Both of you were so similar that I thought I was starting to get delusional."

“Delusional, how?”

“Like I started to find you cute and stuff,” replies Daniel easily, before the boy realises what he just said and stops abruptly, eyes wide. Watching the colour rise in Daniel’s cheeks is a miraculous sight to behold and Jihoon can’t help the glee bubbling within him.

“You started to find me cute?” Jihoon grins. “Was that before or after I sabotaged the game for you?”

“Ah, so that was intentional? I take it back, I never thought you were cute.”

Jihoon throws his empty bottle of peach juice at Daniel for this, which Daniel bats away with his free hand with a surprised shout. They both calm down and it finally dawns on Jihoon that it’s the end.

“Anyway—congrats, you finally got the good ending.” Jihoon swallows the words around the small pill of disappointment in his throat. “Guess you won’t be needing my help for much longer, huh?”

There’s silence between them as Daniel fiddles with the PSP still opened in his other hand, face an unreadable mask—it makes Jihoon nervous. He can usually read Daniel well.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jihoon ignores the way his heart plummets. “No more wasting your lunch money on takeout food for both of us, huh?”

“I don’t know about that—because see, I’ve only unlocked the good ending in the game.” Daniel tosses his PSP aside and shifts to face Jihoon, “But I want to get one in real life, too.”

It sounds stupid even to Jihoon’s ears that he can’t help the scoff he lets out. “Life isn’t some fairytale, what do you mean you want one too?”

“Well,” Daniel licks his lips. “I was thinking I just need to find enough courage to ask the boy of my dreams out."

Jihoon blinks, and he looks down to find one of his hands in Daniel’s—how did it get there? Suddenly it’s Jihoon’s turn to feel heat on his face. “You’re not… thinking of dating me just because I turn out to be a character from some stupid game, are you?”

“Do I look mental to you?” When Jihoon raises both his eyebrows, Daniel heaves a big sigh and throws his hands up in the air. “I may like games but I’m not one to date pixels on a screen, okay! I really… really enjoyed— _enjoy_ — talking to you, sharing my food with you and even though my friends complain a lot about their part-time jobs, I actually _love_ coming here to work because I get to see _you_. Maybe…” Daniel trails off and coughs suddenly, hiding his face behind his hand. “Maybe sometimes I act a little more clueless than I really am just so I can ask you for help. And I told you before, Kihoon is… totally my type. Which means, you know, if you’re who they based Kihoon off of, you _are_ Kihoon—but I mean this in a totally non-creepy way, you know what I’m saying ri—”

Jihoon cuts Daniel off by clamping a hand over his mouth. “Please stop talking, otherwise I might change my mind about wanting to date you, too.”

He pulls his hand away to reveal the biggest grin he has ever seen on Daniel’s face—and knowing the boy, that’s saying a lot. Daniel’s voice is soft when he says, “So that’s a yes?”

“Can you spell that? Or would you like me to spell it out for you?”

“I sort games by title _one time_ , make _one mistake,_ and you’re never letting it go, are you?” Daniel grumbles, much to Jihoon’s amusement, but his hand is already finding Jihoon’s own again. “Will you do a favour for me, though?”

“We haven’t even gone on our first date and you’re already asking for favours?”

Before Jihoon can laugh again Daniel is pulling him in by the hand he’s holding, pressing Jihoon up against his chest with a hand on the small of his back. Jihoon should be wrenching away from his hold but the way Daniel is looking down at him so reverently coaxes him into staying put so he can hear what Daniel has to say. The taller boy leans down to graze his lips against the shell of Jihoon’s ear, and says in a low voice:

“Can you say the last line of the game to me again?”

Jihoon groans, throwing his head back in lamentation of the ruined mood. “ _Daniel_ —“

“Are you actually good at popping?”

“I swear, ask another question and I will—"

“And do you really like stargazing and staying at home?” At Jihoon’s borderline murderous stare, he continues, “Please, I need to know. This is very important to me."

In retaliation, Jihoon pulls him down by the nape and locks their gazes together. “Date me and you’ll find out."

Daniel grins as he settles both his hands on Jihoon’s waist.

“Is that a challenge? In which case: I accept."

  


*

 

 

_(Good Ending with Daniel: Obtained.)_

 

 

 


End file.
